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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758521">Order for Mr. Rainbow Clown?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodsHumbleClown/pseuds/GodsHumbleClown'>GodsHumbleClown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>COVID 19, Fast Food, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:14:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodsHumbleClown/pseuds/GodsHumbleClown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot that might become more.  Modern AU.<br/>Spavey<br/>David is a fast food worker, Spot is a customer who doesn't like jerk customers. </p><p>Some language used, because I just be that way, ya know?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spot Conlon/David Jacobs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Order 35, a chicken combo," David called out,  trying his best to sound perky and upbeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He probably sounded fake, but oh well. That was just too bad for the customers who cared. If they wanted really genuine good service, they were gonna have to pay more than three dollars for a meal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But really, David did his best to be polite. Even to irrational customers, like customer 35, who did not like the fact that their lobby wasn't open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're loyal customers. I do not appreciate being forced out like some plague carrier," the man declared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm very sorry for the inconvenience. Hopefully our lobby will be open soon." David offered the man his receipt, but he apparently wanted to complain more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just don't see why we can't eat here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David opened his mouth to apologize, but was interrupted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe it's because of the whole "global pandemic" thing, dumbass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jerk man spun on his heel to face a man half his height wearing a black face mask with rainbow vampire fangs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You mind your own business."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll say what I want. You're being a dick to a guy who </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't</span>
  </em>
  <span> give it back to ya, so I'll do it for him. You're an ass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the larger, maskless man called David's new favorite customer something incredibly insulting and inappropriate in reference to the rainbow mask. Something that David would never repeat in his life and frankly it might be worth losing this job to kick the guy out right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it looked like Mr. Rainbow Vampire had the situation under control. He narrowed his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok, buddy. Now you just made it my fucking business. Take your food and get out before I do something I'm gonna regret."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man looked about to argue, but then seemed to notice just how muscular the shorter man was. Probably not a fight worth starting, if he had half a brain. David still found himself reaching for the store phone, just in case he had to call the police or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, the man just growled, snatched his bag up, and stalked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," David said, hoping his mask didn't hide just how grateful he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No problem. Hate people like that. Absolute worst."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David wasn't technically allowed to agree on that, so he just shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, I'm used to it. What can I do for you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gotta pick up an order for my boss. Under Kloppmann?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David quickly scanned through the web order list, trying very hard not to stare at the man in front of him. He was not bad looking, that was for sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, just give me a few minutes to get the fries ready."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David scurried to get things together. It wouldn't do to leave this guy waiting after he'd told off a rude customer for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, uh…" David turned back. The guy was running a hand awkwardly through his dark hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"D'you, you know, like…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David stopped his work for a moment. "I'm sorry?" He had no idea what this guy was talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, if this offends you, feel free to, like, chuck bolling grease in my face or whatever, but would you consider maybe giving me your number?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David blinked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surely he heard wrong. This was a conventionally attractive man, with a muscular form and apparent confidence, asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>David</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a fast food employee, college student, and card-carrying member of Dorks Un-Anonymous, for his number. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend or anything," the guy backpedaled, looking uncomfortable now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll just-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No!" David interrupted quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, yes, I would love that. Here." He pulled out some receipt paper and scribbled his cellphone number on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I get off at nine, so I won't be on my phone before that, but here it is. I'm David, by the way. David Jacobs."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man folded the paper and placed it in his wallet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Spot Conlon."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David passed him the now full bag, switching back to customer service mode. "Here's your order. Have a nice rest of your day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spot snorted a laugh  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will. See ya around, David."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See you," David repeated, watching the young man leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head once the door closed. An empty lobby, but he still had work to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But David could think while he worked. And he certainly had something to think about right now. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this wasn't even intended to be a multi chapter thing but i have no self control so here we be</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Spot avoided looking at his phone, and instead looked at the TV screen, on some reality TV show that he wasn't really watching and didn’t particularly care about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was background noise, and that was all that mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t waiting for a response, because that would be silly. He was relaxing after getting off work, and if that David guy decided to text him back, that would just be a nice thing to add to Spot’s night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>waiting around </span>
  </em>
  <span>for that to happen. Absolutely not. Spot Conlon did not get nervous about things like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzed, and he nearly fell off the couch in surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Jackass: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>do we have dog food</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spot snorted in annoyance, and considered not responding to his brother/roommate’s text, but that would be petty. He had no reason to be annoyed with Jack, and besides, the dog needed to eat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set his phone down and got up to check, followed by the dog herself. Spot liked Sasha, Jack’s mutt, just fine, as he liked all dogs. Sasha preferred his brother quite a bit, but that just meant she wouldn’t sink into a deep depression when Spot finally managed to find a roommate who wasn’t his annoying brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that he was going to move out until Jack found a different roommate to replace him, and more importantly, his half of the rent, but still… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them really </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to live together, but it worked out pretty well, considering they were brothers and could honestly get along a lot worse than they did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they could certainly get along a lot better, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spot went back to his spot on the couch to tell Jack that they did not, in fact, need any more dog food, since apparently they’d both bought it last week and now they had entirely too much for one half-grown puppy to possibly consume. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a text on his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A text from the number he’d been given earlier today. A response to his text (</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is Spot from earlier, how’s things? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Had taken him entirely too long to write and send).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>David J. : </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Things are good! I just got home from work, so I’ll be AFK for a bit while I get changed and stuff. How are you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spot was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>excited. Absolutely not. He didn’t get excited about potential… friends? Relationships? What was this going to be? He had no idea. But whatever it was or wasn’t, Spot wasn’t excited about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t bouncing his leg in place, and if he were doing that, it would be because he had pent-up energy because he hadn’t gone to the gym today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just energy, not excitement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit, now he needed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>reply, </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spot got back on his feet and started to pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m great, </span>
  </em>
  <span> he started to type, and then erased it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded weird, didn’t it? Did it?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m great, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wrote again, and erased again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha whined, watching Spot pace back and forth. He quickly sent a text before he could really think. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m doing good. Gotta walk my dog, so text you later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Since Spot didn’t want to be a liar, he grabbed Sasha’s leash, immediately making the dog wiggle around and bounce with excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go somewhere, Sash. Let’s go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha was absolutely not going to argue with him, even if she wasn’t a dog and could talk and all that. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>David looked at his phone, letting the glowing screen be the only light in his dorm room. His roommate wasn’t even there, so he could turn on a light, but standing up to do that sounded like too much effort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David hated his job; it always left him feeling exhausted and a greasy mess. But it paid better than most of the other jobs he could find in the area, and the flexible schedule was pretty much a deal breaker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And besides, because of that job, he’d met an…</span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting </span>
  </em>
  <span>guy today. Interesting was the wrong word, but David wasn’t sure what the right one was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Intriguing? That was better. This guy Spot was intriguing, to say the least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He decided to go out on a bit of a limb and send more than the awkward “how are you”s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So do you always go around performing vigilante justice for us fast food workers?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The response came much quicker than he’d expected, since the guy said he was busy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Spot (vampire customer) : </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>only for cute guys</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David laughed in surprise at the absolute dorkiness of that response, completely unaware that Spot immediately chucked his phone into the bushes as soon as he sent it. </span>
</p>
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